


Recall; Growing Pains

by coley1001



Series: Descent into the Darkness [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 23:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coley1001/pseuds/coley1001





	

Gibraltar; 16 February 2076; 0925 Hours  
Angela ran a hand over the dusty surface of the medical bay. When she glanced down at the hand, she found herself repulsed by all the dust that had been collected. She promptly hurried herself over to the sink located on the far end of the room to wash off the grime. Behind her, the door slid open with a whoosh and Winston trundled in.  
“Well, what do you think of it?”, he asked, grinning. The genetically enhanced ape had been brimming with excitement since he had recalled Overwatch. “Exciting to be back in Gibraltar, isn’t it?”  
“Well, it… it certainly is odd to be back here.”, she replied, turning and leaning against the counter. She was dimly aware that she had probably smeared dust onto her lab coat and a feeling of annoyance kindled in her stomach. “Most everything is still where I left it, and I’ll have to spend the next few days throwing out expired medicine and restocking, but it’ll… well, we can do a lot of good.” She smiled weakly. Ever since she had responded to the recall, she had been plagued with doubts that she thought she had put to rest years ago. Only now, they were resurfacing worse than ever.  
Winston nodded resolutely, “Angela…You made the right decision coming back to Overwatch, I assure you. Remember the old days?” He chuckled. “How about that time Reinhardt charged that bastion unit and got stuck in that crevice? Or that time Gabriel sewed all of the Halloween costumes for us.” He said, still laughing.  
Angela couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Reinhardt’s misadventures. At the mention of Gabriel, however, her smile instantly evaporated, and her cheeks paled. Her stomach turned over and she turned around to hide the anxiousness on her face from the ape.  
“I believe I-- it will be better than old times.” She said resolutely, more to reassure herself than anything. Winston sensed that the doctor was troubled, but decided to drop the issue. There was enough to deal with, and he was well aware that each member would be carrying baggage. There was silence for a few moments. “I’ve got cleaning to do.” She mumbled, returning to her work.  
Winston nodded a bit, his deep-seated concern not sated. However, he remained silent about the matter. “Could you give everyone a check-up as they arrive? I don’t want anyone to go into the field ill.”  
“Of course.” She responded quietly, not looking up.  
Winston nodded and exited the room with his usual lumbering gait. The recall was only a week old and already he could see stresses in the team. There was quite a bit of work to do.

Gibraltar; 18 February 2076; 1600 Hours  
“Well, if it isn’t Fareeha Amari.” Angela stated casually as the Egyptian woman walked into the med bay. Already the space was significantly cleaner, the dust swept up, the old medicine thrown out, and the instruments in order. Angela’s Valkyrie swift response suit was hung on a rack in  
the corner, her Caduceus staff and blaster beside it.  
Fareeha nodded as she entered into the med bay. “Yes, it is”, she said, looking down at the doctor. After a brief pause, she looked around the freshly cleaned med bay and observed, “You seem to have made yourself at home.” She walked over to the Valkyrie suit, “Hm. I see that you are still playing the part of guardian angel.”  
Angela nodded a little, “Yes. I’ve… I’ve found it difficult to return to civilian life. I tried working at the Hospital University de Genève but… it’s just not the same as working in the refugee sites.” She smiled fondly as she remembered her tenure working with the Red Cross in Russia. “Uh, anyway, please sit on the examination table. Winston’s asked that I give a physical to every member.” She said, patting the table. Fareeha nodded and hopped onto the table. Angela pressed her stethoscope to Fareeha’s chest and listened for a heartbeat. “Well, your heart is still ticking”, she laughed amiably.  
She looked up into Fareeha’s eyes, seeing the woman staring straight ahead, and asked, “Fareeha, uh, are you feeling alright?”  
“Uh? Oh, uh, yes.” She responded. “Just, uh, distracted is all.” Fareeha glanced away. She was at peace with her mother’s death. Ana Amari had done what she thought was right, and Fareeha had gotten her Wedjat tattoo in remembrance. But she now struggled with the idea of directly defying her mother’s final wishes. She wanted to honor the fallen sniper, but she also needed to forge her own path.  
“Fareeha.” Angela says for the fourth time, waving her hand in front of the woman’s face. “Are you ok?” The doctor had already finished the rest of the check-up while Fareeha had been lost in her own thoughts.  
Fareeha nodded. “Uh, yes… sorry about that.” She stood up suddenly. “Do you need anything else?”  
“No, but, uh… is… is it about your mother?” Angela asked softly, “Because I know that your relationship with her was complicated, bu-”  
“Angela. It’s fine.” She interrupted sharply. The moment the words were out of her mouth she regretted their biting tone. “Sorry, I just, … it’s hard.” She said.  
Angela gave a small, understanding nod, “It’s fine… I understand. If you need to talk, I’m here for you. I’m here to help with psychological health as well as physical health.” She tried to give off a comforting tone, “And… if it’s any consolation, I share your concerns about Overwatch.” A shrug. “It’s violent and dangerous. At least before it had the UN as it’s master. I trust Winston, but… I also trusted Jack and Gabriel”, she said, shaking her head.  
Fareeha looked at her in shock. “Angela… I’ve wanted to be a part of Overwatch as long as I can remember… you really think that it should be abandoned before it even has a chance to begin?”  
“No, no, of course not. Overwatch has a lot of potential for good. It’s just that… well, it’s important to listen to your own sense of morality. Just following orders isn’t a good excuse for doing wrong”, she advised, mostly thinking back on the biotic rifle she helped pioneer for Fareeha’s mother.  
Fareeha nodded reluctantly. “Ok, Angela, I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you”, she said somberly. She headed to the exit, but stopped at the doorway. “Angela, it, uh, it really is very nice to see you again. You need to remember that we rely on you. If you talk about being doubtful of Overwatch… well, you make a difficult task almost impossible.”  
Angela looked down, and gnawed her lip. “Ok… thank you Fareeha. I, hmm… yes, I appreciate your input”, she replies softly. Fareeha nodded and left the room, feeling anxious about the future.

Moscow, Russia; 14 March 2076; 1000 Hours  
Mercy and Pharah strode up the steps of Kremlin, flanked on either side by Russian soldiers. Angela exchanged a glance with the armor-clad Fareeha, a shudder of fear going through her body. It had been years since she had had to take on a diplomatic mission, and she had forgotten the danger they posed. While being shot at was no picnic, at the very least the situation was clear. In this situation intentions were clouded. A single word had the power to save or fail the mission.  
The two were stopped by mech-wearing soldiers. “We will need to confiscate your weapons before you meet with the President.” One of the soldiers at the door says. Angela reluctantly hands her caduceus blaster over to the man. Fareeha hands the heavy rocket launcher over as well, though she clearly did not like the fact. “We also require you to hand over your staff, Mercy.” The guard said, using Angela’s call sign. Based on the grimace of the young man, it was meant to be biting. An accusation at her and the organization she was working for. There was much bitterness towards Overwatch as a whole in the Russian Federation. Where other nations had the support of Overwatch, Russia had been left largely to fend for itself. Even now it was fighting the Siberian Omnium alone.  
With great reluctance, Angela parted with the staff. “Please be careful with it”, she said softly. The guard said nothing, simply walking away with their weaponry. She glanced at Fareeha again. She had to admire the woman’s stoicism, even in the face of antagonism. It was a face Angela could find confidence in, safe in the knowledge that Fareeha would fulfill her duty as Angela’s bodyguard during this mission.  
The two women had been assigned to gain access to Russia. To do so, they would have to meet with the Russian President, Pyotr Arkhipov. Angela had been sent as Overwatch’s diplomat and liaison. She had a significant amount of goodwill worldwide, both due to her medicinal work and because she openly testified against Overwatch when it was officially disbanded. Fareeha was there to act as her bodyguard and assist in any way she could. It was decided that someone who was not a former Overwatch agent should take on the task, despite the blood relation to Ana Amari.

Angela took a deep breath, calming her frayed nerves. “Ok.” She said, more to herself than to those around her. Regardless, it was an indication to move ahead. The two Overwatch agents entered into the heart of the Russian Federation.  
They were led to the grand office of President Arkhipov, who stood facing the window, his back turned to the door. ‘One for showmanship, apparently.’ Angela thought to herself. Already she had a sick feeling about this. She glanced up at Pharah, barely able to catch the woman’s eye under the helm she wore. She managed to catch the Fareeha’s eye for a moment, and found a needed dose of courage in it. “President Arkhipov, it is good to finally meet you.” She said, bowing as a sign of respect. Pharah did likewise, and the president scoffed.  
“It is about time we met, Ms. Ziegler.” He turned and looked the two over carefully, trying to read them. Angela had an expression of serendipity. It was a well-practiced expression. The Egyptian was far more difficult to read. With her eyes covered, only her jaw exposed, he could not get an accurate read on her. But he did not become the Russian president by giving up. “Please, sit.” He said, indicating the chairs in front of his desk. “Miss Amari, I do ask that you remove your helmet.” He said, turning and taking his own seat across from them.  
Fareeha frowned at the very idea. She was a soldier, and was not one to remove armor when in a combat situation. In her opinion, there was a very decent change this could develop into just such a situation. However, she was not stupid. She knew what they were here to do. She removed the helm, and set it on the desk. The discontent was plain across her face, something the president picked up quickly. Angela placed her hand on Fareeha’s knee, trying to calm her. Fareeha appreciated the gesture, and let out a long exhale. They exchanged a glance, and Angela lightly patted Fareeha’s knee through her armor.  
“Now, let us get to business.” Angela said with a smile.  
The president chuckled a little. “Oh, no need to be so eager, Ziegler. We have all day to discuss the terms of our agreement. Besides, here we three are.” He glanced at Fareeha, and grinned a little. There was little he had to lose. Russia had survived without the help of Overwatch in the past. It would do so again, with or without the organization. He stood and slowly walked behind them. As he walked he allowed his hand to slowly glide over the back of Angela’s neck. A chill ran down the spine at his simple touch. Fareeha had noticed the sudden change in the doctor’s countenance and grit her teeth.  
“I am certain that Overwatch has many needs at this moment.” He said in a practically cooing voice. “Now, the Russian Federation has enough resources to assist, but in return, I need your assistance.” He said, resting his hand on Angela’s shoulder. He gripped her shoulder softly, with just enough to make the point clear. “But what we require is the knowledge that Overwatch will serve Russian interests. Perhaps Overwatch chooses to deploy to Finland rather than the United Kingdom.” He said, his hand not stopping rubbing Angela’s shoulder. Fareeha watched with hatred at the touch, and it took all the power in her not to slap the hand away.  
Angela stood up suddenly, gnawing her lip. “Overwatch is not to made decisions based on the countries it is financed by. It operates where it is most needed.” She spoke with a sharpness in her tongue that Fareeha had rarely seen. It was obvious that the president had gotten under her skin.  
The president laughed a little. “I’m sure the UN shared similar thoughts when your organization was first formed.” He said sarcastically. “You dare say that Overwatch is not political? Angela, look where you are. Overwatch was always political, and so long as you try to resurrect it, always will be.” He said, rebuking her. She grit her teeth. However, the damage had been done. The light touches had been just enough to distract her, to throw her off her game. Her normally sharp wit felt blunt. She opened her mouth to speak, unsure of what would even come out, when Fareeha stood.  
“Mr. President, I encourage you to rethink your works.” Fareeha said tersely. “We came to you as ambassadors and you have treated us as beggars seeking soup. If you invited us to talk, then you have done a poor job. If you had invited us to mock us, you have made a very foolish mistake. If you want to have genuine talks, then you may send an agent of yours to meet with Overwatch. But know that treating us like this again would be a very dangerous mistake for you to make” She said resolutely. Both Angela and Arkhipov looked stunned at Fareeha’s little speech.  
The President narrowed his eyes, annoyed that the power of the conversation had been stripped from him. “Get out. You both have 3 hours to be out of the country before I have you both arrested as international fugitives.”  
This was very likely a mistake for Overwatch. The resources Russia could have provided would have been invaluable to Overwatch, especially as it got its feet under it. Instead, they had made themselves an enemy. Mercy and Pharah exited the office, though not before Pharah put her helmet back on. They collected their weapons and Mercy’s staff as they exited. Angela looked down at the cobbled pavement as they hurried through the streets to their awaiting helicopter out of the country. “…you shouldn’t have said that.” Mercy said softly. Her heart was not in the words.  
Pharah looked over at her. “I won’t apologize for what I said. Overwatch should not stoop to deal with the likes of that man.”  
Mercy nodded. “I know. Thank you.” She said softly, relieved to have had Pharah there for her. She feared what she could have done or said without the strong, calming presence of the Egyptian woman by her side. Angela reached over and rested her hand atop Fareeha’s knee, if only for the reminder that Fareeha was there, and that she was a solid foundation to be relied upon.  
They boarded the helicopter and were soon off, headed back to Gibraltar. Both were anxious about what they had to report to Winston.

Gibraltar; 17 March 2076; 1530 Hours  
The news station blared as the Overwatch agents gathered around the TV to watch. Athena was programmed to detect any news feed that pertained to Overwatch. In the past few days they had been far more negative than positive. “The Russian president has declared that he has evidence that the illegal organization known as Overwatch has reformed without United Nations consent.” The newscaster said. “President Arkhipov produced several video clips of Angela Ziegler and Fareeha Amari, both having prior connections to the disgraced organization. We go to our clip of President Arkhipov.”  
The feed switched to a live video of Arkhipov standing in front of a podium. To one side was the Russian military poster child Aleksandra Zaryanova. On the other side was the mecha magnate Katya Volskaya. He spoke from his prepared notes in Russian. A network translator spoke the words into English. “Three days ago, I was approached by Dr. Ziegler, asking for a meeting. The doctor emphasized how she might help with the Omnic Crisis in Russia, and I accepted. However, when she arrived she was both armed and accompanied by Fareeha Amari, daughter of Ana Amari. They were allowed access, after their weapons were removed.” The president spoke in a slow metered done.  
On the couch, Angela shuddered, terrified how the man would spin what had happened in his favor. She was seated next to Fareeha and moved a bit closer, seeking the comfort of the woman. Fareeha placed her hand on Angela’s knee comfortingly.  
“When we met, Dr. Ziegler revealed that she had rejoined the organization known as Overwatch, and that they were both agents. They threatened extortion, in which Overwatch would assist Russia in return for large sums of money and support. I have no desire to embroil the Federation is some racketeering scheme by international criminals, and asked them to leave. It was at this point that Fareeha threatened bodily harm, saying ‘Know that treating us like this again would be a very dangerous mistake for you to make’.”  
Winston looked over at Amari, his eyes full of shock.  
“With the threats made by this illegal organization, I will be calling for a United Nations motion to brand Overwatch a terrorist group, and any found to be working with them be submitted to a military tribunal for judgement. Working with Overwatch is amount to treason against the United Nations, and the world as a whole.” With that the man finished his speech, and walked off from the podium. The press conference erupted in questions, all of which were ignored.  
Winston shut the TV off. Angela looked at the ground, feeling shaken. Fareeha squeezed her knee softly, and the two exchanged a look, sharing feelings of guilt. “Well… that… that will take some time to process.” Winston said. He bore a look of heartache and betrayal. Angela could feel the hopes he had crashing down around him. While he had doubted recalling Overwatch before, it was only now that he began regretting it. One by one the agents exited the room. Fareeha and Angela remained on the couch.  
“Winston knows what really happened. We already informed him. We did not fail, as there was no way to win.” Fareeha said resolutely. Angela look her head, her golden hair moving slightly. A lock moved forward, becoming untucked from behind her ear.  
“We are Overwatch. Our job is to win when there is no possibility of success.” Angela said, dismayed. “It would have been better if we had not met with Arkhipov at all. Now he has isolated us from the world. Anyone who spots us will have to arrest us.” She shook her head.  
Fareeha frowned a little. “Angela.” She said, her tone of voice firm yet comforting. “We both knew that this would happen eventually. The fact of the matter is that we are criminals. We are violating international law right now. We are vigilantes. You told me that I should do what is moral, not what I am told to do. Would it be moral to abandon Overwatch because of the words of one man?” She asked.  
Angela met Fareeha’s eyes, and couldn’t help but smile at the intense gaze. Fareeha slowly brought her hand up to Angela’s cheek and pushed the stray lock of hair behind the woman’s ear. “I know you know what is right, Angela.” Fareeha said. She stood and walked out of the room without another word.  
Angela held a wisp of a smile on her face. Despite it all, she knew Fareeha was right. Overwatch was not a mistake.

In the months following the incident with Russia, Overwatch had managed to remain viable. While still reduced in operations, the organization operated as best it could. Talon operations were suppressed and Los Muertos influence had diminished. Despite being labeled as criminals and terrorists in most of the world, Overwatch enjoyed widespread public support.  
8Km Above the Mediterranean Sea; 22 November 2076; 0100 Hours  
The cargo plane’s engines whined loudly in the cold night air. “10 minutes to the drop zone.” the pilot called back into the cargo bay. The woman in the cargo bay nodded, a characteristic grin flashing across her face.  
“Finally, a fun mission.” She said. “Widow and Reaper are such bores.” She mused, walking to the ramp at the back of the cargo bay. She pulled the parachute on and clipped the straps together. “Ready when you are!” She called out to the pilot. His only response was to lower the ramp. Sombra staggered back as a torrent of wind filled the cargo bay. “Dios Mio.” She muttered, watching the water below her pass by.  
The light overhead changed from red to green, her cue to exit. She stepped off, falling into the night air. She fell for a few seconds, testing her own nerve, before finally pulling the chute. It opened, and she grunted as her fall was quickly slowed.  
Her feet touched the ground after a few minutes, and she quickly unclipped the parachute, letting it slide off. She checked herself over for any injuries, satisfied that she had landed without incident. “So, this is the infamous watchpoint.” She said, approaching Overwatch’s base of operations.  
The site’s location had only been found after hours of looking through historical records. Of course, the task had fallen to Sombra, who quickly relegated it to some underling. Initially Reaper had advocated using Talon’s resources to simply bomb the watchpoint off the face of the earth. After hours of arguing, Sombra had convinced him of a different route. Of course, Widow had been no help, merely standing there silently while her and Reaper had argued. That woman irked Sombra to know end. At least Reaper had things he enjoyed, like reading and the color black. Widowmaker always seemed distant, never quite mentally there. It would have been sad were it not so disturbing.  
Despite the sensitive nature of the base, Sombra was appalled at the state of the systems security. “I thought the ape was supposed to be a genius.” She mumbled as she disabled the security cameras. With that done, it was a simple matter to walk up to the main door. Less than a minute later, it slid open. Sombra turned back to the grounds outside Overwatch, then tossed her translocator out. She turned back to the base and silently slipped inside. With a wave of her hand, the woman turned invisible.

Fareeha walked the halls of Gibraltar. She felt like a ghost. She had been finding it more and more difficult to sleep as of late. She had a bad feeling, but couldn’t place where it had come from. All in all, Overwatch was successful. Every major talon operation since the recall had been foiled. Even Angela, reluctant at first, had warmed up to Overwatch. Fareeha stopped dead as she heard the sound of a door opening nearby. Curious, she followed the sound, arriving at the doors to the Overwatch mainframe. Her blood ran cold at the sight of the massive blast doors wide open. 

Sombra sauntered up to the mainframe’s interface. She began typing rapidly on the keyboard, occasionally bringing up the holographic display on her left hand to run a script. She stopped her typing as she heard footsteps approaching. Without hesitation she cloaked, just as Fareeha turned the corner. Fareeha walked into the room, looking around carefully. Sombra watched her carefully, making sure she didn’t get too close. Executing Fareeha would have been a simple matter, a single bullet to the skull would no doubt do the job, but Sombra was not here to execute Amari. She uncloaked herself and slammed the butt of her gun at Fareeha’s head.  
Fareeha head a sound that she could only describe as electronic, and turned around quickly, seeing the butt of an Uzi flying towards her face. She scrambled out of the way, narrowly avoiding getting her nose smashed in. The gun hit her arm, and Fareeha grit her teeth. No doubt it would for a rather sizable bruise. “Shit!” She shouted as she saw Sombra. Sombra didn’t hesitate to bring her gun to bear at Fareeha. She was compromised, and a dead Overwatch agent was better than a nothing. Thinking quickly, Fareeha lunged forward as Sombra pulled the trigger. Distantly she felt the thud of a pair of bullets hitting her, but the adrenaline prevented her from feeling the pain in that moment. She tackled Sombra to the ground, knocking her gun away. Sombra had never been very proficient in hand to hand combat, and Fareeha quickly broke any guard Sombra tried to muster. The best Sombra could manage was slashing at Fareeha with her long nails, cutting into the woman’s cheek. Fareeha flipped her on her face and pinned her to the ground, holding her arms behind her back.  
“What the hell is all the- Fareeha!” Winston shouted, having been woken by the ruckus the two women had caused.  
“I’m fine, go get handcuffs.” She said without a tremor in her voice. Even as she spoke, she could feel the pain finally ebbing into her system. “And Angela.” She added.  
A few minutes later Winston returned with the cuffs and the doctor, who immediately grew pale at the sight of Fareeha. Sombra, still flutily struggling, was handcuffed. A cloth sack was put over her head. Winston grabbed her and led her to a holding cell. It would likely take considerable effort to fully disarm her, if it were even possible, considering her implants.  
Angela rushed next to Fareeha and pulled the woman’s arm over her shoulder. She said nothing as she helped Fareeha to the med bay. Her heart pounded in fear. She had dealt with far worse wounds, but still could not shake an intense fear, one unlike any she had felt before. She helped Fareeha up onto the examination table. She numbly pulled on her doctor’s jacket, an automatic maneuver. It was a comfort to feel the familiar weight on her shoulders.  
Fareeha grit her teeth in pain. Her tank top had been soaked through with blood, though she readily shed it as Angela brought over the items she would need for the emergency surgery. Fareeha’s fears were allayed as she saw Angela. The woman was in her element, and moved with an almost supernatural grace. She brought over a canister of anesthetic and placed the mask over Fareeha’s mouth and nose. Angela was backlit by the large surgical lights of the room, and Fareeha saw a halo of light form behind her. She smiled softly, feeling as though she were in the hands of an angel. As the thought traipsed through her mind, the anesthetic took hold, and she fell unconscious. 

Angela worked diligently on Fareeha for hours, her caduceus staff activated by her side. It would help the procedure go smoother. She began with the bullet wounds, carefully extracting each bullet lodged in Fareeha’s side. Thankfully nothing vital had been hit. With luck, there wouldn’t even be significant scaring over the wounds. After finishing with the bullet holes, she turned her attention to the claw marks on Fareeha’s cheek. A few centimeters higher and Fareeha could have lost the eye. Angela stitched the cuts together after disinfecting them. She took a deep breath, satisfied with her work.  
It was only now that she finally allowed emotion to wash over her as she waited for Fareeha to awaken. “I can’t believe that woman did this to you.” She said through gritted teeth. “If anything had happened to you… I don’t know what I would have done.” She said, more just thinking out-loud than actually talking to the unconscious Fareeha She ran her hand over Fareeha’s uninjured cheek, simply wanting to feel the woman’s smooth skin. She smiled softly. This moment served as a catalyst for her. She was realizing that the feelings she had harbored for Fareeha were not of friendship. Ever since Russia, she had felt a mix of excitement and fear in her stomach whenever she interacted with Fareeha, but always attributed it to nerves. “Perhaps I didn’t want to see it at first” She said aloud, caught in her own thoughts and self-analysis. It was only when Fareeha got shot that she realized these feelings were different. The wounds felt as though they had hit her. They had taken her breath away in the worst way possible, and the thought of losing Fareeha had been too much to bear, like losing a part of herself. “I think I see it now.” She mumbled a little, looking at Fareeha’s placid expression. “I think I’m in love with you.” She whispered, the mere word sending a trill of excitement down her spine. She knew the words were true, especially now that she had vocalized them.  
With this realization came a flurry of other emotions. Relief that her feelings had finally been realized. Fear that her Fareeha would not reciprocate. Reservations that her position did not allow her to love Fareeha. Giddiness at the idea of loving someone. So caught up in her own emotional hurricane, she hardly noticed Fareeha awakening. Fareeha groaned a little as she came too, her body feelings sore.  
Angela paled as she saw her awaken, and hurried over. “Welcome to the world of the living, Fareeha.” She said, smiling a little. “I removed the bullets, and you should be perfectly fine in a few weeks’ time when you have had a chance to heal.”  
Fareeha nodded and stood up, wincing in pain. “Thanks Angela. I owe you.” She flashed Angela a smile. Angela smiled back, and quickly put Fareeha’s arm over her shoulder to help support the strong woman. The pair both slowly made their way to Fareeha’s room.  
“Now, make sure not to push yourself. I’ll also need to inspect your wounds every few days. My Caduceus staff helped immensely in the surgery and recovery time, but it was no substitute. I’ll also be prescribing you some pain pills.” She said. Her cheeks burned a ruddy red as she considered confessing her feelings to Fareeha. She decided not to. The feelings were too new. Fareeha should be focused on recovering. And most of all, she didn’t want to drive Fareeha away. It would be better to remain as close friends than distant coworkers.  
It took a few moments to get Fareeha settled, but soon it was done. “Well, uh, is there anything else you need?” Angela asked, standing at Fareeha’s door. Fareeha didn’t miss the redness in Angela’s cheeks, nor the wistful grin on her face. For all the attempts at hiding her thoughts, the doctor was failing miserably. Unlike Fareeha, she didn’t have the ability to put up a stoic façade.  
“No Angela, I think I am good. Thank you though, I really appreciate your help.” She said. “If I need anything, I’ll make sure to let you know.” Angela nodded and departed quickly.  
Fareeha laid back in her bed. She was anxious about the feelings she had seen on Angela’s face. Her own feelings were muddled, something to be sorted out later. However, she knew that she had a duty to Overwatch. Pursuing a relationship with Angela would complicate things. She wasn’t sure how Winston would react, and had no desire to compromise any missions. A secret relationship would be untenable. So Fareeha decided to put aside any feelings for Angela she might have. She knew she should talk to Angela about it. Explain her reasoning. Let the doctor down softly. But she knew she couldn’t. She didn’t want to completely close off that potential avenue. Even having the option was enough for her, even if she knew she couldn’t take that option. She felt a bit selfish, and perhaps a little cowardly, but she also knew this was the only course she could bear to take.

Sombra winced as the bag was removed from over her head. She blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the light above her. She was sitting at a table, her hands cuffed in front of her. Winston sat opposite to her, glaring at her. It was difficult to tell what his intentions were. Sombra wasn’t used to reading the face of a Gorilla. “Is this how Overwatch treats its prisoners?” She asked in mock astonishment and horror.  
Winston ignored her. “Why did you break into Overwatch?” He asked, glaring.  
She grinned. “And why should I tell you?” She asked. Despite Sombra being handcuffed, they both had the sense that she was in control.  
Winston growled softly. “Because if you don’t I will force you to.” He said. To be honest, he doubted he could bring himself to torture her. The idea sickened him and went against his moral convictions of what Overwatch should be. However, he was more than willing to give the impression that he would torture her.  
Sombra frowned and bit her lip. She glanced down, then back up at Winston. “I was assigned to destroy the Overwatch mainframe after stealing as much data as I could.” She admitted. Winston nodded, glad to actually be making some progress. He decided to tone down the threatening aspect, however. As much as he needed information, he didn’t want to scare the woman too badly. Sombra glanced up at him. “If you promise to give me good accommodations and show me mercy, I’ll tell you what Talon is planning.” She said softly.  
“What makes you think we need to know?” Winston growled.  
Sombra laughed a little. “With that they’re planning, you will need all the help I have to offer.” Sombra said with a grin.  
“Fine.” Winston said, taking a seat. “Start talking.”  
Sombra proceeded to tell him about a plot Talon had to bomb the Omnic slums in London with an EMP. She explained that it was a step to cause a second Omnic crisis in Europe, though she was unaware of the plans after the bombing. “Reaper keeps me in the dark as much as he can.” She explained. “He never quite trusted me.” She remarked thoughtfully. “Now, perhaps you can take these handcuffs off?” She suggested, raising an eyebrow.  
“Once we have stopped Talon’s operation, we can reassess your accommodations.” He said, moving her hands to behind her back. She frowned, but said nothing as she was led out of the interrogation room to a cell. Winston locked her in without a word. As he walked away, Sombra let a slight grin out. Things were going well.

 

London, England; December 9, 2076; 2059 Hours  
Fareeha knelt on a balcony of the hotel overlooking the square. Her earpiece chirped to life as each agent checked in.  
“Tracer, checking in”  
“Mercy, checking in”  
“Reinhardt, checking in”  
“Winston, checking in”  
“Pharah, checking in.” The woman said. She looked over at the massive statue of Mondatta, a chill running down her spine. She could see Angela kneeling by the statue, gripping her staff tightly. The woman’s wings fluttered a little. She was jumpy, and Fareeha couldn’t blame her. Based on the information Sombra had provided, Talon would be emerging from the old church steeple any second now. The square felt eerily silent, pregnant with danger. Fareeha readjusted her grip on her rocket launcher, and throttled her suits jetpack, reassuring herself that the armor would not fail her.  
The stillness of the cold night air was suddenly broken as she heard the sound of a single sniper shot. “Fuck!” Lena shouted. “They’re behind us!” She screamed into her comm, followed by another shout of pain.  
“Damn it damn it damn it.” Pharah said, launching herself from the balcony, hurrying to Tracer’s location as fast as she could. Below her she saw Angela beating her wings rapidly. The ambush they had so carefully planned was shattered. Their ambush was ambushed. The comms lit up with gunfire, to where she couldn’t hear her teammates words. Frustrated, she tore the earpiece out. She saw the battleground below her. There were about twenty Talon agents swarming the street, firing at her teammates. Winston was pinned down in the small bookstore. Mercy was dragging Tracer into cover while Reinhardt shielded them with his hammer. Even as she took in the sight she a bullet whiz by her head, a brief red streak following it. Without hesitation, she dropped to the ground and threw herself behind Reinhardt’s shield. Lena had been shot in the shoulder, judging by the location of the blood. Angela was holding her staff to the wound, and she looked up at Pharah. Her cheeks were pale, and the fear was evident on her face. Pharah’s resolve hardened at the sight.  
“Reinhardt, make some room for Winston.” Fareeha shouted as she fired rockets at Widow. The purple-skinned woman used her grappling hook to move out of the way, evading Pharah’s rockets with an incredible amount of grace. Reinhardt slashed his hammer upwards, sending a wave of fire hurtling towards the talon agents. They jumped out of the way. Those that couldn’t screamed as they were slammed against a wall by the force of the fire strike. They crumpled, taken out of the fight. Winston took that moment to leap from the bookstore. He firing his tesla gun, and the men hit shouted in pain. A shot from Widow sent Winston sprawling. Without hesitation Angela fluttered to the ape’s side while Reinhardt moved forward to shield him. Pharah looked at Tracer, who was stable, but still in no condition to fight. Having little options, she fired her thrusters, flying high into the air and firing rockets at Widow, not meeting much success. At the very least the sniper was unable to fire while avoiding the rockets.  
“It was a trap.” Winston said, breathing heavily as Mercy attended to his wounds. “Sombra knew exactly what she was doing.” He said. Angela remained silent. There was nothing to say.  
As Talon agents pressed closer, Reinhardt finally took the offensive, swinging his massive hammer. Fareeha was shocked to actually hear the man laughing in glee as he cut a swath through the Talon agents.  
Angela was kneeling by Winston, the soft gold beam of her staff working rapidly to repair his wounds. There was no way for her to lift him, nor could she continue to treat him in the middle of the street. “Reinhardt, I need you to carry Winston over to Tracer!” She shouted at the man. With almost all the Talon agents taken care of, Reinhardt retreats some, setting up his shield once again. He looked down at Angela, seeing that she was drawing her blaster. He dropped the shield lifted Winston up. The ape grunted in pain as he was carried back to cover. All the while Mercy retreated slowly, firing her blaster at any who dared peak out from cover. For a doctor devoted to healing others, her aim was surprisingly deadly.  
With only a few Talon agents remaining, including Widowmaker, Angela was beginning to feel hopeful that the Overwatch agents might actually defeat the Talon agents and arrest them. Above her, Pharah continued her duel with Widowmaker. She landed a lucky shot, blowing Widowmaker off her feet. She aimed at the sniper’s limp form for a final blow.  
“Not so fast.” The words seemed to fill the narrow street. Pharah’s blood ran cold. The words were spoken with a hatred that could only come from a single being. “Fire another shot and the doctor gets her heart blown out.” Reaper says, having appeared behind Mercy in a billow of black smoke. A shotgun was pressed up against her back, right between her angelic wings. Widow took the opportunity to regain her feet and trained her scope on Pharah’s head. Only then did she discover that the barrel of her rifle was broken. She retreated, having nothing more she could do for Talon at this point. The remaining Talon agents came out of their hiding places and Reinhardt created his shield, intent on protecting the wounded.  
Pharah landed a few meters from Reaper and Mercy, her rocket launcher trained on the two. With how close they were, a shot at one was a s good as a shot at the other. Pharah didn’t want to risk injuring Mercy.  
“You are going to drop the rocket launcher, and allow me and your lovely doctor to leave.” Reaper growled.  
Pharah grit her teeth and tore her helmet off. She looked Mercy in the eye, her heart pounding. “Angela.” She said, the women’s eyes locked. “I love you.” She said, firing the rocket at the two. In that moment Reaper changed to his black smoke form, allowing Mercy a brief second of freedom. Angela gave a mighty flap of her wings, launching herself at Pharah, her arms outstretched. She fell into Pharah’s arms, hugging her tightly. “I love you too.” She whispered.  
Reaper had no respect for the intimate moment. He reformed and fired one of his shotgun shells at Reinhardt’s shield, ensuring he remained where he was. He ran forward, and pressed the barrel of his shotgun against Pharah’s side. Time seemed to stand still as he pulled the trigger. Angela’s expression turned from one of joy to that or horror. Pharah’s face contorted in pain and she let out a bloodcurdling scream. Angela attempted to scream, but was cut off by the feeling of Reaper’s clawed gauntlet wrapping around her throat, cutting into it and drawing some blood.  
Reaper and Mercy were both teleported onto the Talon dropship by Reaper’s almost supernatural abilities. Widowmaker watches as the two appeared with only dull surprise. Angela screamed as well as she could with her airway cut off. She scratched at Reapers gauntlet, her face contorted with a rage unlike any she had felt before. Her struggles ceased after a minute as she passed out.  
Reaper released her, then glanced at Widow. “Radio the medical team. Tell them that we captured Mercy.” He growled.

Pharah laid on the cobblestone street, her eyes still wide with shock. Reinhardt ran over and grabbed her, holding her in his arms. “Damn it.” He grunted, looking around for anything that might stem the blood pouring from Pharah’s side. The armor she wore had done much to protect her, but even it wasn’t enough to fully stop a point-blank shot. Finally Reinhardt spied Mercy’s staff, dropped and forgotten in the commotion. He grabbed it and, after some fiddling, finally managed to activate it. The beam of golden light connected to Pharah, beginning to knit the grievous wound back together. Without Angela to use it, it’s power was lessened. It was enough to save Fareeha’s life, however.  
Fareeha laid, looking up into the night air. Her brown eyes reflected the moonlight. Over and over she saw Angela in her grasp, hear the words ‘I love you’. And felt the terrible emptiness as the woman was removed from her grasp. She was dimly aware of the burning sensation as the staff healed her, but it hardly mattered. Her love was gone. She was dead inside.


End file.
